Somewhere in the Middle
by ArizonaLovegood
Summary: No matter where you go or what you do, you live your entire life within the confines of your head. -Terry Josephson.  Ted Remus Lupin was never meant to be born.
1. The Inevitable End

**Warning: Contains spoilers for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows**

**Disclaimer: Did you really think I owned Harry Potter? Really? X3**

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"_Avada Kedavra!_"

The sound ringing through the great hall, not three hours ago, would have caused all wands to point to the one who uttered it; but now, it was lost in the chaos of the war that roared through Hogwarts, in cries of agony and curses shooting through the cold air that carried with it the stench of death.

The sound of a duel ending.

A small ball of green light built at the tip of Antonin Dolohov's wand, for less than a millisecond. It exploded out in a flash, and a web of green lights, tangling together as they shot forward, sparking at the frayed edges, shot forward. It was just a second, less, as the smooth trail of green energy cut through the air.

It struck the chest of another wizard, and the long tail of the curse all slammed into the wizard, a flash of green pulsing across him.

He stumbled back for a moment, then his knees buckled and hit the ground, his lifeless body following. His head was turned to the side, his eyes still open, glassy and glazed over.

Dolohov's lips curved into a sadistic smirk, void of happiness, not even reaching the edges of his bloodshot gray eyes. He rolled his shoulders, straightening his coat, and turned, striding through crowds of wizards; in search of another worthy opponent.

And the body of Remus John Lupin laid there, completely and unarguably dead.

Tears wiped pale lines through the grime on the witch's cheeks as she wept, her whole body seeming to deflate a bit. She had come moments late, and the body of her husband, the body of the father of her child, lay lifeless on the ground.

She leaned over his unmoving body, hugging it, stroking his face. Already, she was dreading the long life ahead without her beloved; dreading going home and looking into the innocent face of her child, only eleven days old, and knowing he was without a father. Another sob filled her chest, and she rose slowly, getting to her feet.

Her face was torn with agony, her jaw parted slightly as if she couldn't find the strength to close it. She looked around and saw an upturned face, looking into hers. It was Antonin Dolohov's, and from the sly baring of his teeth, the sick amusement she could see in his face, she knew he had done it.

This was the man who had killed Remus.

"_Confringo!"_ she called, her voice cracking to a hoarse whisper with the tears. A jet of flame, roiling through the air like a missile, becoming a fuller flame each moment, erupted from the tip of her wand, heading for the murderer of her husband.

Dolohov's face was wiped of expression and his wand raised, his jaw parted. It was all a moment late, and if another wizard hadn't entered into sight, the full jet of flames would have collided with the sick, condemned man's side, burning him.

"_Aguamenti!_" a woman's voice screeched; and it was a screech, half-crazed and half-furious. Bellatrix Lestrange strode forward, a stream of water spouting from the tip of her wand and rushing through the air, like a wave across the smooth surface of the ocean.

The water splashed into contact with the flame, which exploded in a rush of heat. Both of the forces, fire and water, equaled each other. The curses died out in a moment, and the witch looked directly at the death eater.

Lestrange's face spread into what could have been joy, but was still deranged and tortured joy. It was just insane enough to match her bedraggled hair.

"_Levicorpus!"_ the witch screamed, her sorrow and grief being momentarily replaced by vehemence. Immediately, Lestrange's feet were thrown out from under her, flipping her head toward the ground, hanging by her feet.

The death eater was taken aback, but she quickly regained her senses and raised her wand, aiming it at the witch's chest. "_Stupefy!_" she howled, and red light spurted from her wand, flowing forward in a thick ray, flickering and dim like a candle flame.

The witch fell back from the force of the spell, but her footing quickly faltered and she slipped, falling down onto the ground. Her eyes were slit open, but she wasn't conscious of what was going on around her; wasn't conscious at all, for that matter. But, as if even in her unconscious state it was too important to forget, her fingers still gripped her wand, her knuckles white.

The witch's spell was broken, and Lestrange fell to the ground, quickly rolling forward and regaining her footing, her wand already raised.

The death eater giggled, her lips spreading into a cold, almost dead smile. Her eyes glinted with anticipation, for her favorite part of the duel. She stepped forward, her wand raised to the sleeping witch. Her lips formed the name of the curse soundlessly, completely lost in the sounds of battle.

"_Crucio_."

The unconscious body of the witch began to become alive with movement, the eyes opening, still barely aware of anything. Her back arched up, writhing and turning in crooked ways. Her mouth opened and a choked cry of anguish filled her throat. Her hands clenched into fists, and she kicked a leg, as if it would lessen the torture.

After a moment, the spell broke, and the witch's chest was heaving, her body shuddering. Bellatrix Lestrange lifted her wand again, pointing it at the witch, who was still only half-conscious, and muttered, "Expelliarmus."

She held a hand out and caught the flying wand, pressing up on it with her thumb, snapping the wand with ease. She knelt down beside the witch and whispered into her ear, "Good-bye, niecey. Aunt Bellatrix is gonna tuck you in tonight."

She tapped her wand to the witch's throat, but didn't utter the words. Her hands had dealt the spell so many times, she knew it; her lips didn't need to form the name of the curse. A green light pulsed through the witch, and she lay still, the heaving pants and waves of shudders ceasing.

And, seven feet away from her husband, Nymphadora Tonks Lupin lay on the ground, completely still.

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**Do you like it? Are you at the edge of your seat? If not, read it again – see if that works. I'll try and post the next chapter soon. Leave me constructive criticism in the reviews, please – but compliments are accepted as well. 83**


	2. A Bad Idea

**Disclaimer: Do I LOOK like J.K. Rowling? Of course you don't know what she looks like! You don't even know what I look like! But, just so you know, the answer is no: I do not look like her, nor do I own Harry Potter like her. So, there.**

So quickly, humanity can press a full personality and form an opinion on something completely lifeless, making it into a fully built living thing in our minds. But, through all of our thoughts, it remains what it is: a lifeless object, which was dropped by the ironic hands of fate, which is what humanity should be putting a face on.

A marble is one of such things, rolling through King's Cross Station.

If it had taken several different paths, it could have encountered many fates, molding it to be a full personality and living thing that it wasn't.

It could have tapped upon the foot of a dark person, and crushed underfoot, making it a helpless victim of a short and grievous life. But just as easily, it could have hit a crack and rolled into a bounce, falling into the hands of a child who would chase it and hold it in its chubby, sweaty fingers, taken care of it, and inevitably lost it, leaving the marble as a cheery and happy child's plaything.

But not today. Today, amongst the crowded King's Cross Station, it weaved through the feet of many agitated and excited young witches and wizards. It seemed to be darting between feet, away from death and danger, but it was – rather anticlimactically – just rolling along wherever the lowest point in the floor directed it.

And it happened to fall towards Ted Remus Lupin, completely by chance.

And if anyone had seen it rolling toward him, they would have said that for sure it was drawn towards the shoes; the only shoes in King's Cross Station that weren't pointed and black, clicking across the ground like the shoes of a muggle tap dancer. These shoes were white, with long, frayed, filthy laces tied in a lanky, looped tie.

And, unlike many others, the boy to whom it came to saw it rolling across the ground. Also unlike anyone else, Teddy didn't ignore it as it ambled toward him across the floor. He smoothly lifted his foot, allowing the clear marble to roll under it, the tapped it lightly, stopping it from rolling any further. He lifted his foot and swept the marble over, so it was pinned between his sneakers. He dipped his foot down, angling it toward the marble. He used his other shoe to press it against the angled foot, rolling it up the side of the sneaker and onto the top. He kicked it up from the top of his foot, and it arced through the air before him, and he smoothly put his hand under it after it had reached the apex of its journey. The marble dropped into Teddy's palm.

He tossed it into his other hand, where he used his thumb to roll it across his hand, onto the tip of his index finger. He held it up into the dim, artificial light that the lamps above him radiated. It shone at several points, but otherwise accurately displayed a tiny, reflected version of the scene before him.

He grinned crookedly, tossing it into his other hand and pocketing it in his loose jeans, pulling his black robe over him. He returned his hands to his pockets, walking forward again. He had already said his goodbyes, to his godfather and his grandmother. It hadn't been tearful, and his countenance had betrayed neither feelings frenzied excitement nor fearful anxiety. And he felt just how he looked, which was content and happy; how he often felt.

He arrived at the edge of the concrete and leapt up the steps, into the train. It had a musty smell to it, and the air was fraught with excitement and hurried words and murmurs. Teddy grinned, the buzz of excitement sucking him in as well, his smile widening.

Teddy arrived at an empty compartment, being pressed into the door by the quickly thickening crowd around him, children still streaming into the train. He clutched the door handle and slid it into the side, pushed into the open door. He closed it quickly, dragging his bag into the compartment. He sighed, his smile unchanging. He picked up his luggage and shoved it into the metal overhead bin. He leaned back, sliding into his chair, interlacing his hands as a cushion behind his head, propping his feet up onto the bench opposite him, slumping into a relaxed position, staring at the blank wooden wall above the seats calmly.

.

"I don't see why not," Teddy interjected, staring out the clear glass of the compartment door to the door outside of their section of the train, with a thin ledge to stand on and several thick cables connecting it to the next section.

He tore his gaze to the window, looking outside of the train. Rain was whipping at the windows, and it masked the thick, dark forest around them with a sheet of dark gray.

Teddy looked at the boy across from him, Angelo Reilles, raising an eyebrow. He was still leaning back in his seat, his arms folded across his chest. He showed no sign of worry or discontent, just the sly but amused grin on his lips.

"We could get in trouble," Angelo mumbled. Teddy looked at him inquiringly, as if to suggest that it was a stupid reason not to do it. Angelo quickly added, "It looks cold." Teddy laughed, shrugging, his gaze following Angelo's and landing on the window to the outside of the train.

Michaels was a tall boy, with thin limbs and a thin face. He was fairly lanky, and had straight blonde-brown hair that hung down over his eyes and dipped down even deeper in the back. He had blue-green eyes and worried too often about getting in trouble or offending someone, but aside from it he was a fairly funny bloke. He didn't seem that smart, though, although you couldn't be sure.

"You want to go, then?" Teddy asked, after what seemed to be a long pause in the conversation.

"Yeah," Angelo said, immediately bolting up and sliding the door open. Teddy laughed and followed suit, darting out the door.

Once the two had stumbled out and slid the door shut, they began to walk quickly toward the back of the train – Angelo clumsily tripping once and Teddy responding with a laugh that got them both laughing – and they stopped at the door to the outside of the train.

Teddy was in front – of course he was, Angelo wouldn't go first. The door was shut tightly, the handle a thick metal lever. He gripped it and thrust it upward, turning it with a jerk. The door immediately blew open, the rain flying in. It clipped Teddy in the head, and he put a hand on it, wincing as he stepped outside, pressing his body to the rails, balancing his feet on the metal platform. Angelo stepped out as well, pulling the door in tight before leaning onto the bar, staring into the depths of the forest.

"Whoa," he breathed, and Teddy nodded. "What do you think's out there?"

"Dunno," Teddy replied, grinning as he added, "All sorts of wonderful things that can kill you – you know, in wonderful ways."

Angelo nodded, grinning as he looked out into the darkness. Teddy stared deep into it, behind the gray sheet of rain, and saw a flicker of something that wasn't dark gray, like a creature.

"Did you see that?" Angelo asked, his eyebrows raised in astonishment.

Teddy opened his mouth to answer yes, but never got the chance. His feet slipped off the narrow metal bar and his hand slipped, and his body seemed to twist around as he gripped the metal handle.

He felt his fingers slip, then he flew off the train, all in just a moment. He was thrown at the side of the train, falling to the ground. He heard his head crack onto something hard – a rock, no doubt. He grimaced, but got up quickly, beginning to run after the train. It was rolling by at least three times as fast as he could run, which, as the train faded out of sight, he quickly realized.

Teddy looked down, putting a hand to the back of his head. It was warm and sticky, causing an alarming flash of pain. He looked at his hand and saw it – dripping with scarlet blood, his hand cleansing as thick drops of rain spattered onto it.

The blood, somehow, felt like a dark omen of what lurked in the depths of the shadowy forests that surrounded him.


	3. Exiled

Seconds.

Every moment in life, every action, can be broken into seconds. In one second, a person can be alive, and in the next, dead. In one second a person can be happy, in the next, afraid. It takes so little to throw off the balance of an entire day – year – life.

Just as in one second, Teddy was on the train to Hogwarts, standing outside, laughing and grinning. And in the next, he was on the ground, his head bloody with the impact of being smacked against a stone, his whole body sore.

He sat up straight, watching the blood drip off his hand. He was still wondering if that had really just happened, but he figured it had; while he was creative enough to think up something like falling off the train to Hogwarts, he didn't see why he would imagine it so vividly.

His leg was shooting with pain, dull, just as his head. But his head had a sharper undertone, the sting that the blood made, a long gash in the back of his head. His ankle was twisted, and he winced as he righted it, and even then it was looking a bit crooked, wrong.

"I _fell off _the bloody train to Hogwarts," he whispered to himself. He was in a sort of hysteria, not sure whether to cry or to crack up in laughter. In the end, the latter one over, and a lopsided grin crossed his face; he broke into loud, mocking laughter that echoed through the forest and died down slowly.

The sounds around him seemed distant, and the ground seemed to slide around below him. Teddy blinked his eyes and put a hand behind him, using it to help him stand up. His ankle stung sharply when he put his weight on it, but he grit his teeth and walked on it anyway, still smirking grimly at how 'funny' it all was.

Hurt his ankle. Head was bleeding. Oh yes, it was bloody hilarious.

Teddy walked beside the tracks unsteadily, limping. A sharp pain shot up his foot, but each time it seemed worse; shouldn't it be getting better?

He heard a long, drawn howl, filled with agony and despair. Teddy stopped, turning his ear to it, listening for it. The dark din cut off with a series of yelps, snarls, and menacing growls, then silence. It sounded far off, but not too far. Closer than Hogwarts was, that was for sure.

The fierceness of the forest seemed to abide in the violent scene; he didn't need to see the creatures to know what had happened. He felt like eyes were burning into his back, and his footsteps seemed loud and clumsy, even though they were masked by the rain.

He tried to speed up.

Putting more weight on his hurt leg, he could go faster. He clawed at the bark on trees, pushing past them. The forest was starting to get to him, like something closing around his throat slowly. He felt choked, and he knew he needed to get out of this place, light-forsaken and void of happiness.

Maybe he could write a poem about it when he got out.

A sad poem.

_I went into a forest_

_After falling off a train_

_I won't do that anymore-est_

_If I can refrain_

_It was really scary_

_And there were lots of creatures_

_And it will be very_

_Interesting explaining it to the teachers._

Maybe he could edit it a bit.

The thought eased his fears a bit, made him grin. He slowed down, panting. He was nowhere near Hogwarts, and he didn't think he was going to get any closer. He might add a part of the poem where he had his wand. He silently cursed himself for not bringing his luggage with. He hadn't planned on falling off the train, but he could have at least _prepared_ or something. He didn't know any spells, but he had a spell book, and –

Teddy heard a set of hurried steps nearby. It made him stiffen, turn. He silently willed his arms to become paws, long, furred paws, so he could lope at the speed of the wind and create a good, safe distance between himself and the creature rooting through the bushes. And find a way to the train, to a place where no one would even know he was gone.

Nothing happened.

He swore under his breath, a word he had never used before that surprised even him. Teddy wasn't very good with his metamorphmagus abilities. He could do it at the calmest of calms, but if he were at all panicked, sad, angry – enveloped in any strong emotion at all – he couldn't.

He heard a snort and saw a creature shoot through the bushes. When it stopped, facing him, he caught a glimpse of it. It was an ashy gray hog, with long tusks sprouting from below its snout. Teddy stayed rigid, hoping it might not see him and go away. But then –

_It disappeared._

He heard a scrape, and saw leaves pushed aside, then a rapid succession of footbeats. It was charging at him. Teddy began to run as fast as he could, his leg feeling like it was on fire. The creature, still invisible, was giving him chase. He veered off into the forest and stumbled through the bushes, long branches cutting into his flesh. He could hear it, devouring the space between them, closing in on him.

He took a long stride and his foot couldn't find the ground. Teddy fell forward, his foot descending into a hole, his face smacking the earth; he got a mouthful of mossy dirt, his face shoved up into something poky that all the other students were probably learning about in herbology right now.

His other leg trailed behind his body, but didn't fall into the hole. He could feel it, twisted crookedly, bent wrong. His body was half in the hole, hanging from the earth, unable to fall in. He didn't want to fall into what could be an endless pit, but he didn't want whatever was running after him to find him.

The bleary thoughts inched through his mind; while it should be swimming with thoughts, it was just a dead-calm, blank puddle of murkiness and darkness.

_A hog began to give me chase_

_And despite how hard I tried_

_It got me and made me fall on my face_

The world went black around him, and the pain seemed to fall away.

_And there I think I died._

**Ooh, the suspense! Keep on reading, folks. I'll try to have a new chapter out sooner this time.**

**Disclaimer: Really? I mean, seriously, if I owned Harry Potter, I would be bragging about it. Right now. Am I? **

…

**Silence.**


	4. The Alarm Clock of Life

**Disclaimer: I seriously have to put this every time? Dang. If I were J.K. Rowling, then…**

**I would know my first two initials (J.K. – what does it stand for? It shall drive me to insanity)**

**I would be PUBLISHING THIS AMAZING STUFF!**

**C'mon, guys.**

**By the way, I'm sorry I haven't written in a while. I know everyone says that, and I know the world wouldn't fall in if I stopped writing together – my hugest fans wouldn't even notice – but aw, who cares? Maybe it'll catch on :D Enjoy!**

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The infirmary.

A wonderful place with all-too-many wonderfully amusing stories of pain, organized side by side, all lying conveniently in little beds that have seen all of blood, sweat, _and_ tears.

The reality of it was bleary in Teddy's eyes at first; confusion, at first, but without any immediate wish to pursue what was really going on, just lazy, idle confusion.

The first thing he understood was light; it was afternoon, or maybe even morning. It was still raining, he could hear the sounds forming in his ears, actually meaning something. He could see the clouds, they were patchy – each one was rimmed with golden sunlight.

The second thing he felt was pain.

His whole body was sore. His arm felt like it was wrapped in countless blankets – or was that his leg? Leg, definitely leg – and his neck had a kink in it that felt as if someone had shoved a bowling ball in, right beside the bone. He had a pressing headache, and the disgusting, medicine-y smell that hit him right away surely wasn't helping. For some reason, the Alarm Clock of Life had chosen for him to wake at this exact moment; he was cool with that, accept it was earlier than he would have wished. But it wasn't in his hands, and there was no snooze button - or maybe there was, who knows. Teddy didn't really care at the moment; he sort of hated metaphors, espacially long drawn-out ones such as that one. He just gave a weak smile at how pathetic the meager complaints were, and began to regain the ability to produce thoughts.

Something in the forest, with an invisible pig-bear – what had it been? Why was he in the forest? All his thoughts seemed to gather at once, and then his smile strengthened.

_Oh, yeah. I fell off the train to Wal-Marts._

That didn't sound right…

_Hogwarts._

He groaned lightly, sitting up and putting a hand to his head, rubbing it slightly. Queasiness almost sent him reeling, but he just scrunched his eyes closed, his grin evaporating.

He had only missed a couple of days of classes, though, so he would be good. Hadn't he? He couldn't have been out that long, maybe a half a week or something.

"So you're up," he heard a girl say.

There was a long pause inbetween his response from her initial comment. He couldn't quite hear her, but he could still interpret what she had said. Plus, even a simple question required a bit of thought, and his brain was still moving sluggishly.

"Guess so," Teddy grunted, snorting.

"Who are you?" she asked right away, before he could even see her.

He suppressed a groan. Already, he had paparazzi – hey, his handsomeness was hard to refuse. But not even a hello? He wasn't in much of a flowery mood already, but this – this was just ridiculous.

"What's it to you?" he asked, fairly rudely, but he thought it was just fair.

Teddy turned his head, seeing the girl for the first time. She had light blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, shining in the hesitant light from the window. She was smiling, and her rosy cheeks were spotted with light freckles. "I come in here to see my boyfriend, since he's injured, and every time I come in here, your hair's a different color!" she giggled, her cheeks blushing into an even deeper pink.

"It's a talent of mine," he sighed, sitting back into the grouping of pillows behind him.

She smiled and skipped off, seeming overly cheerful. She seemed a bit familiar, but he was sure it was just one of those people with one of those faces you saw all the time.

Teddy looked up, curious to see what color his hair was now. Turquoise, just the way he liked it. He sat for a moment and focused, turning the tips flaming pink. He grinned; it was the kind of attention having pink and blue hair attracted that he ate for breakfast.

And only then did he realize that, in the whole exchange, he had not shared his name, nor learned hers.

Shrugging and writing off the thought, Teddy got up slowly, his balance leaving him for a moment before he gripped the nightstand set beside his bed. A lamp fell off and shattered, and a cup of water tipped over, the clear contents gushing out. He winced, and felt hot embarrassment as he saw a cane beside his bed, obviously intended for his use.

He grabbed it and began to walk out, hunched over it like an elderly person.

When he came into the next room, he heard a soft, weird sound. He turned and saw the girl he had met earlier, leaned over the 'injured' boy, snogging with him like there was no tomorrow. The dude looked like he was at least a fourth year or something, or maybe a huge second year, but he was sure that girl had been in his year. He blinked, unmoved by it, and began to walk out.

He had escaped the infirmary alive!

Teddy silently wished there were trumpets and confetti, but to no avail. Apparently wishes weren't included in magic; oh well, he already knew that, but oh well.

He walked for a while through the almost empty corridors. What was up? Why was it all so empty?

He stumbled around a corner, and began to hear sounds of many voices and laughter and mingling, amplifying as he went further down this new corridor.

He grinned, thinking of all the marvelous times he would get lost in this place of limitless corridors, turning round another corner to see a huge entryway into the fabled Great Hall, filled with students, both shorter than him and seven years older than him, fatter than him and taller, of all sizes and shapes (Mostly shaped like people, but this was a school of wizardry, so you never knew).

He scanned the area, and saw brilliant shining plates full of food, and it was all some certain category of food, he couldn't put his finger on it for a moment – eggs, ham, bacon, toast, omelet, jam, scones, tea – breakfast. It was breakfast, he knew, and he wanted to smack himself in the face for not remembering the most important meal of the day.

_If you couldn't remember it, it's not that important_, his conscience or some other part of his being told him, and he couldn't help but nod in agreement. But that was good; everyone was almost as groggy as he was, since it was – what – seven in the morning? Almost eight? When WAS breakfast?

_Now. Breakfast is now_, another voice in his head told him, and this time he was sure it was his conscience. Only something like that could conjure up such wise, articulate words. His eyes continued to overlook the room, as if waiting for an invitation.

He saw a few familiar faces from King's Cross Station and the train, but just a few. He saw his friend – who, incidentally, he had only known for around a couple of hours – that kid Angelo Reilles. He was wearing a black robe and – Teddy noticed as he turned towards him, laughing, his face stuffed with food as he joked with friends, it had a yellow tie under and the Hufflepuff crest embroidered on it.

They had already been sorted! But that was okay, they did that just on the first day…right? Or was that like a month in? He rubbed his eyes, some sort of distant panic nagging at him, but it quickly faded.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath and walked in, still feeling excessively tired and dragging his feet more than usual.

Ready to enter into this new reality, with whatever surprises he would encounter in it, making him wish he had stayed back in the infirmary with the newlyweds, he stepped through the giant marble entry, his eyes opening.

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If anyone noticed (I didn't even notice myself, for a while) In Angelo Reilles's name, I put the I before the E. And there. Was. No. C. Ah, well – we live and we learn. Hope you enjoyed, my 2-3 fans, please comment and review and all that wonderful stuff.


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